


The Third of Night

by inkillusions



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-16
Updated: 2011-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-26 03:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/278436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkillusions/pseuds/inkillusions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the past two weeks, Sam has been having dreams about Dean dying. Now, every time Dean gets hurt, he can't help but blame himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Third of Night

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set in S2.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own no one or nothing. Kripke is The Man. I'm just playing with the boys. Who can blame me?

__  
**1) Early Morning**  


Sam's hands were shaking as he wiped away the blood in an effort to try and find the actual point of Dean's injury. The hand towel had so much blood on it he was terrified as to how bad Dean’s wound could be.

"Ouch. Careful, Sammy."

Dean's voice was stern, which was a good thing. If he sounded grumpy it meant that he was feeling like himself. Sam could only nod a small acknowledgment, intently focusing on the task at hand. With great relief Sam realized that instead of one horrific wound, there were a series of gashes that thankfully weren't as deep as he had first thought. He continued to apply the peroxide and holy water mixture to the wound on Dean's right shoulder. Sam heard the quiet hiss and curse words that left his brother's lips.

"I'm sorry."

The apology slipped from Sam's lips before he could stop it, though logically he knew that Dean's getting hurt wasn't his fault.

Only it was.

He waited until Dean quieted down before repeating the ritual to the deeper gash on his chest just above his heart. The sight of all of that blood made Sam's stomach turn, but not because he had a fear of blood. He'd seen more than his fair share of blood in his lifetime than most people. Sam knew that the fear he felt was due to it being Dean’s blood, especially when it was a lot of Dean’s blood.

For the past two weeks, he'd been having dreams of Dean dying, dreams where Dean was bleeding out in his arms, leaving Sam helpless to do anything. Leaving Sam helpless to stop it.

"Dean?"

He opened his eyes and looked at Sam, his gaze taking a moment to clear up. "Yeah?"

"Let's stop doing this. At least for a little while."

Dean's hands balled into fists and Sam could see him biting the inside of his cheek. Sam finished bandaging Dean's wounds then wiped his hands off before reaching out, taking Dean's hands in his as Sam's thumbs worked to open Dean's fingers and massage his palms.

"Dean, please."

"Sam, I don't want to go through this again. If you want to go and play College Boy, I won't stand in your way."

"No. That's not what I want."

Sam could see that Dean was in a huff, not really wanting to hear what he had to say. He hated when Dean got like this, but Sam knew it was the way that he dealt with things.

"I told you that I would stick around and I wasn't lying about that. I'm not going to leave you, especially now..."

_...that Dad's gone._

They let the remainder of his sentence hang in the silence between them.

"I just don't want to lose you too."

It felt like an hour before either of them moved or said anything or even breathed, but Dean never pulled his hand away from Sam. Instead, he leaned into Sam’s body, putting his hand on the back of Sam's head. Sam took a deep breath, looking into Dean’s eyes as he pulled their heads together, their foreheads touching. Sam remembered when Dean used to do this when they were kids. It was Dean's way of showing Sam that nothing mattered but the two of them. That reality was important to Sam now more than ever before.

"Sammy."

There wasn't any scorn in Dean's voice and he attributed part of that to the pain medication, but it didn't matter what the root of it was. It was what Sam needed to hear at that moment.

"You're not going to lose me. Not if I can help it."

And Sam wished that he could believe that. He wished that he could just accept what Dean was saying to him at face value, but he knew that as long as they continued to hunt, they would never truly be safe. He knew that he should just accept it, but that wasn't something that was in Sam's nature.

"Just a short break. Can we just go somewhere -"

"Sam, I'm not going to stop doing what I do. You know that."

"Dean, please. "

He hated the pleading tone in his voice, knowing that he probably sounded the same way he did when he was twelve years old and he wanted Dean to stay home so he could go to Laura what's-her-name's birthday party. But if Sam remembered correctly, Dean did what he had asked him to do, even back then. He only hoped that he would be as lucky this time around.

Dean sighed loudly, his eyelids growing heavier by the minute.

"Sam, can we discuss this another time? I'm tired. Really, really tired."

Sam could see the exhaustion on his brother's face and he got up to turn the bed back.

"Lay down, Sleeping Beauty before the pills really kick in and you fall over."

Dean's eyes were closed before his body hit the bed and Sam removed his boots, tossing them into the corner.

They would definitely discuss it later.

\-----

__  
**2) Afternoon**  


The warm sunlight filtered through the cheap curtains, filling the room with noonday heat. An errant ray shined onto Sam's eyelids, the light making its way into his eyes and waking him from his peaceful sleep, making him groan at the intrusion. He considered getting out of bed to make his way to the bathroom, but the solid weight that rested on his arm stopped him from slipping from between the warm covers. The decision to stay in bed wasn't a hard one for Sam to make and he decided to stay there for as long as he could, just savoring the feeling of contentment.

Sam looked over at Dean and the sight of the bandage brought the events of last night to remembrance. Not that he had forgotten anything. They'd been out on much more dangerous trips and God knows, that wasn't the worst injury that Dean had ever sustained. Still, there was something about it that just - scared him. The hunt had been more dangerous than either of them had expected, but they managed to escape with their four limbs and all extremities intact. Dean had been hurt because he was saving Sam and afterward, Dean tried to reassure Sam, telling him that he was okay and Sam was okay.

"We're okay, Sam."

But last night Sam could only shiver in the passenger seat of the Impala, reliving the moment when he had thought that he'd actually lost Dean. For two seconds, he honestly believed that his brother was going to lose his life and he remembered feeling completely terrified for Dean. He shivered again, the chill of the night’s air seeping into his bones, mixing with the leftover fear and making Sam feel even colder.

Sam wasn't okay. Not in the least.

Even now in the morning light and the warmth of the bed, Sam shuddered at the memory and he just wished that...

Dean stirred next to him, wincing as he gingerly tried to get up. Sam rolled onto his side and put his arm around Dean's waist.

"So you want me to take a piss on the bed?"

"Just wait a minute, Dean."

Dean bristled for a moment, so Sam placed a kiss between his shoulder blades. He could feel Dean's muscles begin to relax and Sam pressed tighter against his back, careful not to make any contact with his sore shoulder. God he loved this, loved how good this made him feel. Moments like this, Sam felt almost... Normal was the word that came to his mind. And how fucked up was he if this seemed normal to him?

"Okay, Sam. Tell me what's wrong. Or don’t I want to know?”

Sam knew that Dean really didn't want to know, and he only placed another kiss on the back of Dean's neck, then his left shoulder.

"Sam?" All joking had gone out of Dean's voice, the concern creeping into its place. "What's wrong?"

Sam buried his face in the back of Dean's neck, inhaling his scent, trying to drink in everything about him - his taste, his scent, his warmth. He wanted to respond, wanted to say something to Dean and possibly bring up the conversation from the night before, but the words never came. His fear, which often choked him, was now sitting in the back of his throat and fuck if he wasn't tired of it.

Dean reached down and grabbed Sam's hand, loosening his vise grip and removing it from around him. He eased himself over and sat on the edge of the bed, groaning at the pain before getting to his feet.

"Let's get out of here and hit the road."

Sam sat up and looked at Dean, confusion clouding his face.

"What? Now?"

"Yeah, now. Let's go to the bay."

"What bay?"

"Chequamegon Bay."

Sam grabbed his jeans and began stepping in them, watching as Dean carefully pulled a t-shirt over his head.

"Okay. And that is where?"

"Up near Ashland. It'll only take us about three hours to get there."

"Mmmhmm. And what are we going to do up there?"

"Go fishing, of course."

"You don't even know how to fish."

"Now's the best time to learn."

He laughed as he walked into the bathroom, the sound of it still ringing in Sam's ears after Dean closed the door.

\-----

__  
**3) Evening**  


Sam tried to remember the last time that he’d just took the time to watch the sun set, but it felt like forever to him. He sighed as he watched the light reflecting off of the windshield of the Impala: pink, gold and red. He had a pad of paper and a pencil, having brought it out with him to try and sketch something, but nothing came to mind. As beautiful as it was - complete with trees and a man-made lake just within eyeshot - the inspiration to draw hadn't come, so he just relaxed. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink down and become more grounded with the Earth. He relished the feeling as he had no idea how long it would be before he would feel like this again - feel this calm and peaceful.

"Hey Sammy. Whatcha doing?"

Dean's voice came from his right side and he felt his brother sit down next to him.

"Am I interrupting your meditation, Ghandi?"

Of course Sam's eye popped open and he was close to responding to Dean's stupid comment when he looked at him, into his sharp green eyes. He opened his other eye and turned to face Dean - who, by now was looking so confused, for a moment Sam thought that he was going to bolt.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just..."

Sam's nightmare was at the forefront of his mind as he gazed at Dean. He couldn't help but remember the dream that still haunted him in his sleep. Sam shook his head violently; trying to dispel the ominous feeling that gripped him suddenly. He refused to allow it to ruin the moment between them. It was so rare for them to share some time truly alone. _And besides_ , Sam thought, _it didn't have to mean anything. It could have just been a bad dream._

With the cool wind blowing on his face and Dean's body being pressed close and warm to his side, Sam was able to dismiss his nightmare as just a manifestation of everything he had been going through lately. For the sake of his sanity, he had to believe that.

Sam reached out, his fingers brushing over the freckles on Dean's nose that were now highlighted by the deep golden rays of the disappearing sun. Dean playfully slapped his hand away, laughing softly. But undeterred, Sam gently stroked his fingers across the bridge of his brother's nose again, tracing a path just below his eyes, following the sprinkling of dots until they ended at his temple. He reversed his path, moving his hand even more slowly this time and he had to smile when he saw Dean's eyes flutter closed, his breath evening out.

And this - this was what inspired Sam and he felt like he could sketch or draw or paint or hell, even sculpt something. Instead, he chose to paint invisible lines connecting Dean's freckles, using as much care as if he were painting the next great masterpiece.

Dean's eyes opened and he reached up, giving Sam's hand a squeeze before releasing it and closing his eyes again, a soft smile gracing his lips.

And that look on Dean's face, that peace that he never thought he would see again, made Sam believe that he could.

~end


End file.
